Partners
by Idalyah
Summary: After the war, many Hogwarts students are left traumatized, including Hermione Granger. After an accident with her obliviated parents, it's too much for Hermione to bear and she starts falling into despair. Harry convinces her to go to therapy, where she is paired up with none other than Draco Malfoy. Give it a shot, you may enjoy it!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first Dramione/Harry Potter Fan fiction, although I've had this written for a while now... Anyways, please read and review, I'd love to know what you think!**

 **I'm also not sure how long this will be yet, I've only written about ten chapters so far and it's not close to done so maybe thirty chapters? I'll try to have a regular uploading schedule but I do get busy so we'll see how this works out.**

 **Enjoy the story! And sorry for the long AN!**

Hermione took a deep breath in an effort to dispel the pink flush from her cheeks and the panting in her chest. She had misjudged the time, which had resulted in her sprinting to the building she now stood in front of. _I should have apparated instead_ , She thought, shaking her head, but now was not a time to dwell on mistakes; she was late and needed to get inside. She adjusted her pink wool scarf and pushed open the door, cringing when a small bell sounded, alerting everyone inside to her presence. A quick glance showed her the reception desk in the front, with a hallway to the left and a dozen or so fabric covered chairs on the right, filled with patients, twiddling their thumbs as they waited for their name to be called. She padded across the carpeted floor to the desk where a black haired nurse sat looking at a piece of parchment, what seemed to be a permanent frown glued in place of her mouth. A tag on her shirt claimed that her name was Noreen.

"Hello, Um, I'm here for my appointment?" Hermione asked, twisting her fingers.

"Sign your name on the paper," not looking up, the lady motioned to the clipboard on the edge of the desk.

Hermione carefully removed her mittens, tucked them into her coat pocket, and using the pen clipped to the board, she signed her name and handed it to the receptionist

Noreen pursed her lips once she saw the name and looked at Hermione from atop her plastic framed glasses.

"You're late," she said coldly and Hermione shivered, finding that her voice reminded her of a certain potions professor.

"Sorry ma'am, I ran behind," she apologized.

"We do not tolerate tardiness miss, but I have orders to let you pass today," the lady replied, wrinkling her nose, as if letting her tardiness pass was a stinky matter.

"Thank you ma'am," Hermione sighed. She wanted to let the lady know that punctuality was one of her top priorities, but she felt, or rather knew, that Noreen would not appreciate being talked back to.

"Don't thank me, If I were fully in charge I would not have let you in even if it would save your life," the lady muttered and Hermione found her liking for her lessening with every breath she took.

"Anyways, Room 512; You might want to hurry, your nurse and partner are waiting,"

Hermione nodded and headed down the hallway, stopping at the eighth door, which was marked by a white plastic plaque, with 512 carved neatly into it. After taking a deep breath to compose herself, she knocked on the wooden door, which swung open almost immediately. A pale woman who could not have been older than 20, stood in front of her in a long doctors coat. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a loose bun and she smiled when she saw Hermione.

"You must be Hermione! You're a bit late but it's no problem, come on in!," She motioned inside and after giving her a timid smile, Hermione stepped into the overly bright room. A big chest of drawers stood to the left while the rest of the area was taken over by a rug, small table with a set of three chairs in the middle and an office desk in the corner, all white of course. A window on the opposite wall let in sunlight, which Hermione was sure was conjured with magic as there was not that much sun outdoors. A gasp escaped Hermione's lips as soon as she spotted her partner seated on one of the chairs, recognizing his platinum blonde hair instantly, and once he saw her, his already frowning expression turned sour. In seconds, Hermione was in front of Draco, who had stood up.

"You traitorous git!" She shouted, and she quickly found her fist pulled back, ready to punch. If it weren't for his equally quick movements of grabbing her fists, she might have given him a black eye.

"That's not how you greet people," he hissed at her.

"You don't deserve any type of freaking greeting!" She snarled back, "You're a traitor and your lucky Kingsley felt sorry enough for you to bail your ass out of Azkaban!"

"I didn't ask for your people to stick their noses into my business and get me out, I would have gladly stayed in there!" He seethed.

Hermione ripped her hand out of Draco's and was about to go for a slap this time, reminiscent of third year, when the nurse intervened. Her wand was out and she had frozen Hermione's hand.

""NO!" Hermione screamed, "LET ME HIT HIM! IT'S ALL HIS FAULT! THAT TRAITOROUS DEATH EATER GIT!"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Draco roared, once she called him the name Voldemort had given to his followers.

"THAT'S ENOUGH," the nurse shouted, glaring at them, "Okay, I let you vent it out a bit because that is necessary in the beginning, but you two are going to be going through _therapy_ together and so I expect you both to be respectful to each other! If this is going to work, you have to turn over a new page!" the nurse said, her bright attitude from earlier having dissipated.

"But he's the reason I even _have_ to take therapy," Hermione scowled.

"And you think I voluntarily chose to come here?" Draco growled.

The nurse shook her head, silencing the banter, "I understand that it's going to be hard for you two to get along but we need to bury the past. This will be our first activity. I planned to start with an introduction but you two seemed to already do that part. Now, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, could you please take a seat?"

Draco winced but was compliant and quietly sat down in one of the wooden chairs around the table in the center. As the nurse flicked her wand, unfreezing Hermione's hand, Hermione could see that the war _had_ changed him. He hadn't really insulted her so far, was much quieter in general, and was much more willing to follow directions from a teacher figure. But the scars were still fresh in Hermione's mind, and she was desperate to pin the blame on someone other than herself. So when she regained control of her hand, she contemplated trying to have another go at him but she was weary, and she knew the nurse would stop her in a heartbeat. With a sigh, she plopped down into a chair, glaring at her Slytherin peer.

"Okay. My name is Maya, and I'll be your therapist for the next ten weeks, depending on your progress, that could change to a shorter or longer amount of time. To start, I want each of you to let out all the bad feelings they have for the other person so we can start with a clean slate,"

Hermione frowned,"Why do I have to do my therapy with _him_? Whoever decided putting us in the same room was a good idea should be admitted to St. Mungo's,"

Maya sighed, "Partnering people up in therapy helps because you know someone else is going through a similar situation and you can talk about it with them. You and Draco have _very_ similar reasons for therapy and since both of you experienced them during and after the war, it makes sense to pair you up. Also because..," she hesitated, " Never mind,"

"No, what is it?" Hermione persisted.

The nurse shook her head, "It's Nothing,"

Hermione wanted to press her more but Draco interrupted," Can we get this over with?"

Maya nodded,"Hermione, we'll start with you. I want you to tell Draco any bad feelings or situations you have from him,"

Draco pursed his lips as Hermione's glare pierced through him and muttered, "Here we go"

"Malfoy," she sneered," You're a prat. You don't deserve to be here, your ass should be rotting in azka-"

Maya interrupted,"Hermione we're not insulting here. Please refrain from phrases like that and do as I _said,_ "

With another sour look at the blonde, Hermione started over, "Well this is going to be a long list. Hmmm. How about every single time you've made fun of me for being a muggleborn, called me a mudblood, called me out for being _smarter than you_ , insulted my teeth and hair, tried to kill Dumbledore, fought on the death eaters side, LET THEM INTO HOGWARTS, you're the reason I had to do what I did, you're the reason they're no longer alive, why i'll never see them again.. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Hermione was panting by the time she had finished. Her voice had risen with every word and the fury was back in her. Draco only wore a small frown as he watched her almost-tantrum. The nurse stood up and placed a hand on the brunette's shoulder, " Take a deep breath dear, you need it," she said quietly. But Hermione was blind with rage. Her rant had broken the dam she had built to stop the memories from dominating her mind, and now they were swamping her. The sight of Malfoy in front of her, Malfoy who was responsible for so much of this tragedy made her lunge across the table, this time landing a fist on his chest. Her victory was short lived though; Maya had her wand out and in seconds, Hermione's body turned stiff and turned onto the carpet. The nurse was struggling to keep her calm as she looked over Hermione's body.

"I. Will. Not. Tolerate. Any. More. Of. This." She said through gritted teeth, " I am calling someone in. This behavior is ridiculous,"

Hermione felt her eyes moistening. She did not normally act so violent, but the memories, oh the pain they brought; their pain can make a person crazy and she was a victim of this conundrum.

Suddenly, a knock sounded and the nurse opened it with a flick of her wand, staying put next to Hermione's immobilized body. Hermione would have gasped if she could've, for the person who entered was someone every Hogwarts student would rather not cross. Even though Hermione could say she was on the friendlier side with her, she really didn't want to disappoint her. It was the new Hogwarts headmistress, with her tight bun and stern expression, Professor Minerva McGonagall. But someone else walked in after her, and Hermione's jaw would have widened further, if possible, when the wizarding world celebrity, with his scar and round glasses entered as well.

"Hey Hermione," he smiled. After glancing at Draco, whose face was twisted in a scowl, and his best friend's frozen body, he let out a sigh.

"Hermione, I know it's hard seeing him," he gestured at the blonde, "but trust me if you calm down and at least _try_ to get along with him it'll help so much in the future,"

Maya had undone the enchantment on Hermione and she now stood up and faced Harry.

"I appreciate that outlook into the future but I said this earlier and I'll say it again, me and that _person_ won't get along. Putting us in the same room might as well be an invitation for us to start a duel. Whoever came up with this plan is definitely an idiot," she said, shaking her head.

Harry winced, already regretting what he was about to reveal, "Well, um, you might want to know that _I_ suggested this plan…"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: And here's chapter two! The first few chapter will be up pretty quickly since they've already been written and edited. Happy Reading!**

 **Disclaimer, I don't own anything except the plot.**

"You're kidding right?!" Hermione, wide eyed, asked her best friend after his confession.

Harry shook his head, grimacing as Hermione stumbled backwards.

"How could you do this…" she gasped, "You know I'm going through a tough time, and you're trying to make it _worse_ for me?"

"No, I'm only looking out for you; I understand the pain you're going through, and that you want to blame Malfoy but if you manage to get along with him…" Harry trailed off as Hermione took a few steps back towards him, piercing him with a glare.

" _Get along with him_?! Harry, what's gotten into you?! _He_ was your enemy, he made Hogwarts hell for you at times. He almost killed Dumbledore! Why are you so ready to forget all that?!" Tears were forming in the brunettes eyes as she finished and Harry stepped closer. His arms were open with invitation, which she accepted.

"It's okay," he whispered as the tears started flowing from Hermione's eyes. She shut them, immediately regretting that decision when images of her parents flooded her vision. They were lying _so still,_ and it was her fault. No. Malfoy's fault. A sob escaped her and she pulled away from Harry's arms.

"They're _gone,"_ she choked out, "Because _he_ helped that wretched _Voldemort_ and so I had to send them away. Then... _I messed up._ I messed up Harry. I don't even know whose fault it really is anymore,"

"Breathe, Hermione. You need to stop putting the blame on yourself and others. It happened; no one specifically is responsible for it, we can't undo it, But we can try to accept it,"

"How is putting me in therapy with that _ferret_ supposed to help that?!" Hermione asked, her face twisting into a disgusted expression.

"Look at it this way: Malfoy may have done lots of terrible things but he helped us in the end; he's changed. The war changed us all and everyone deserves a second chance now. He's struggling like you are. One of his parents is in Azkaban and the other has secluded herself. Since you two have similar situations, you can help each other therapeutically and erase an old grudge. Give it a chance 'Mione, give it a chance," Harry finished quietly, raising his hands up as if to say, _I'm finished here._ He quickly wrapped his arms around his best friend once more before announcing that he had an appointment with someone and walked out the door.

Hermione stayed put like a statue. She hated to admit it but Harry's words had made her stop and think. She had noticed the change in Malfoy, so maybe she could stand to give him another chance. She'd always had a soft side to her and it was nudging her right now, urging her to heed Harry's words.

She turned to where the nurse and Professor McGonagall were still standing in a corner of the room.

"I..I'm sorry," she whispered, "I shouldn't have acted that way,"

The nurse, Maya, smiled at her, "It's okay. I understand, and I hope you will have more responsibility after this,"

Hermione nodded and Minerva McGonagall spoke, " The Hermione I know will forgive and forget, as well as act in a manner of only the best people. I hope, that is."

"I won't disappoint Professor," Hermione replied, returning the headmistress' nod, who with that, left the room.

"Okay. I hope we can start anew here," Maya said, walking back to the table were Draco was silently sitting. She motioned for Hermione to sit and took a seat herself. Once the Gryffindor begrudgingly took a seat, the nurse started again.

"Our first activity will be sharing what happened with each other. This way we know what everyone's going through. Draco I want you to go first."

The blonde sighed, shifting in his seat before starting, "Well, uh… you two already know, is it really necessary for me to say?"

Maya nodded, "We need what happened from _your_ point of view, now go on, talk,"

Draco cleared his throat, "The war happened. I knew I had to help defeat the.. other side, so I did; I helped Harry. After the war, Lucius and I were among those taken to Azkaban. Kingsley had me taken out but the old man had to stay, good for him. Mother went too but the court let her out because she apparently had brain issues. She bought some house and refuses to step out of it. Haven't seen her since. I rented out a flat and I'm trying to reorganize my life now," he finished, mumbling out the last bit.

"Okay, it sounds like you're having family issues and probably struggling with yourself too. We're going to work on fixing those. Your turn Hermione,"

Hermione frowned, she really didn't want to tell what happened in the presence of Malfoy but she _had_ agreed to be cooperative.

"Before the war, when Voldemort was killing parents and families of muggle borns, I feared for my own parents and…," she took a deep breath before she continued, hoping she wouldn't get too emotional, "I… I obliviated my parents memories of me and sent them to Australia. I was desperate to see them again after the war, I needed their comfort but I wasn't thinking. I was hurt from the long battle and I was stupid enough to think that I could go bring them back right away. I left for Australia days later… but when I tried to… to… have them come back; and Harry examined my wand after, said that someone most likely cursed my wand; the spell backfired, it killed them instead..." She was fighting tears now, every second was testing her ability to keep them from spilling.

"Thank you Hermione. Now let's talk about the plans for the upcoming weeks of this class that will hopefully remedy these situations,"

* * *

Hermione tightened the scarf around her neck as she stepped outside the building. The therapy session had left her weary and she was hoping to get to her sofa and cuddle with a mug of hot chocolate and a book. She had only taken a few steps in the freshly fallen snow when a hand reached out and lightly tapped her shoulder. Hermione tensed immediately and turned around quickly, drawing her hands back, only to drop them when she realized it was Malfoy.

"What do you want? I don't have time to waste with you," she growled.

The slytherin rolled his eyes, "I'm actually about to give you some information you'll thank me for,"

"I doubt it, but hurry up, I'm trying to get home," Hermione replied, kicking the snow with her feet.

Malfoy shook his head, his traditional smirk stealing his lips, "I know who cursed your wand,"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Draco's POV this time!**

Draco watched Hermione's eyes widen, her slumping figure going pin straight as she digested what he said.

"How?!" She managed to choke out in the midst of all her shock.

Another smirk slipped onto his face, an old habit he couldn't break, and he tilted his head to the side.

"I mean, I did stay in Azkaban, among hundreds of… _his_ army, and I tend to overhear things,"

Another question was about to escape her lips when she stopped herself and shook her head, "Wait, how do I know you're not lying?"

"And why would I be lying about this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the brunette

She rolled her eyes, "Have you forgotten your name? Why _wouldn't_ you lie to me?"

"Granger, Granger, were you listening to all the crap Potter said earlier? I may be a Malfoy but I'm not a child still; I have changed, if even a bit. Now could we continue this conversation elsewhere? I'm freezing."

"Merlin, you're still acting spoiled, that hasn't changed," Hermione muttered, "But I reckon we could. I know a nice muggle cafe we could go to,"

Draco wrinkled his nose, which he was sure was turning pink, because of this blasted zero degree weather. It had been an achingly slow process but he had overcome his wizarding blood prejudices in the few months after the war but… muggles? Muggles were another thing. He didn't think he'd _ever_ understand all their quirky little gadgets that were poor substitutes for all what a wand could do.

"Why a muggle place?" He frowned

"I don't want stares; _you_ may have forgotten but the rest of the wizarding world can't seem to forget, 'The Book loving heroine who saved us all,' she quoted a recent article from the Daily Prophet disgustedly, "So, If you're coming, it's this way," She said, turning around and making her way through the thick blanket of snow.

Draco let out a huff. He was surprised that he and Granger were actually having a civil conversation and that she had agreed to sit down and _talk_ with him. He had imagined she may throw a few questions at him when he initially told her what he knew but she seemed a lot more enthusiastic than he had imagined.

Granger was slowly getting farther away and with another puff of air, he made his way towards her, quickening his steps to catch up with her brisk pace. She glanced at him once he fell in step with her, and a thought struck him.

"Can't we just apparate from here to a safe distance away from the cafe? I don't really enjoy marching through snow,"

Granger shook her head, "I uh, don't really use my wand.."

Of _course_ she didn't. She must've been traumatized by what happened the last time she used a wand to want to use it again. He felt silly for asking such a thoughtless question.

"We're close though," she mumbled.

Sure enough, a few minutes later a brightly light, red painted cafe came into view. The wide windows showed an array of muggles, sipping mugs of who-knows-what, chatting and laughing merrily.

"Shit, Granger, I was _not_ expecting this! I thought you had some quiet little place in mind, _not_ a circus!" Draco cried, his jaw dropping.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, "It really isn't that crowded. Plus, the more people, the less we stand out," she said, stepping up to the building.

Draco groaned, reluctantly following the brunette as she pushed open the door and walked up to the counter.

"I'll have a plain hot chocolate please, with some biscuits," Hermione asked the barista with practiced ease, then turned to him, almost expectantly.

"Oh. Black tea if you have it," he said. Once the lady had written that down he trailed behind Granger as she made her way through the full tables to a lone one in the corner. The two chairs around it seemed like they were expecting them, and they both pulled them back, taking a seat.

"So," Hermione announced, "You have information?"

He nodded, folding his hands on top of the table, "I do. A lot of it actually. Azkaban is full of secrets,"

"I'm guessing you're not going to give me all of it right now, since you're such a git,"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You're right about the first part but If you so sincerely believe I'm a _git_ than why are you bothering to talk with me?"

"Malfoy, as much as I despise you I'm willing to work with you to get justice for my parents. If I can lay what happened to rest I'll be able to live again," She said, and as Draco watched her grow more quiet when she mentioned her parents, he know this meant more to her than he could imagine. Enough that she could put their differences aside to crack the case. That was probably the reason she was actually having a conversation with him that didn't involve shouting or attacking the other.

He took a deep breath,"Then.. if you're willing to work with me, I have a proposition for you. If I help you figure this out, you forget our rivalry. Deal Granger?"

He watched her eyes widen, filling with doubt at his suggestion and he internally sighed as he realized he would probably face rejection. Thankfully, an interruption walked up to their table as Granger was about to reply.

"Your drinks," the waitress said, setting down a plastic tray with two steaming mugs and a small plate of vanilla biscuits. She placed the sweet drink and the cookies in front of Hermione and the black tea next to him, along with two packets of sugar and a stirring stick.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she said before disappearing into the crowd.

Draco hesitantly turned back to his companion, picking up the stirring rod and sticking it into his cup. He would never admit it, but he was nervous as hell at what she would say. This was a big shot at redemption and if he missed, he didn't know where he would go next.

"May I ask _why_ you want me to forget our rivalry?" Hermione spoke up.

He sighed, aimlessly stirring his tea, "You may not believe me, but I want to start fresh. As I said earlier the war changed me. I realize I've treated so many people wrong and I want to fix that. It sucks still being considered a "bad guy" even after all what happened," he said quietly.

"I… I guess I can somewhat understand that. As long as you're cooperative and help me solve this, I'll _try_ to forget the past,"

"So it's a deal?" He asked, wincing at the hopeful tone of his voice.

Granger grinned, "It's a deal,"


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Again, Draco's POV. It'll be two chapters Hermione, and two chapter Draco and so on. Enjoy!**

 **Also, which POV are you liking better so far?**

Draco watched Hermione dunk a cookie into her mug as he brought his own drink to his lips. His expression instantly turned bitter as the taste of unsweetened black tea filled his mouth and the mug in his hands quickly found itself abruptly coming into contact with the table.

"Bloody hell, I forgot I didn't sweeten it," he gasped, reaching for one of the sugar packets, opening it, and pouring the sugar into his tea.

A laugh came from Hermione and he scowled, flicking the empty wrapper in her direction, then proceeding to stir his drink.

"So childish Malfoy. I thought we agreed to be adults?" the witch asked, a grin dancing on her face.

He raised an eyebrow, his only response being a -this time successful- sip of his tea. He did not trust himself to open his mouth and release a civil reply as he was already feeling angry at himself. The self-loathing that came after every interaction with one of his previous "enemies" still haunted him. Sure he had overcome his prejudice, but the teachings drilled into his brain from his youth simply refused to leave him, popping up at the most inconvenient times. It was slowly fading, but he knew it was long before they were fully gone. He could hear the faintest of whispers in his ears, the accursed sound of his so called father, chiding him for making peace with a 'mudblood'. The anger he felt was mostly from the fact that he couldn't shut out these demonic whispers. His hope was that working with Granger would help diminish these voices. He was still surprised at how quick she was to change her attitude towards him, but he remembered that the information he had was important to her.

"So," Hermione spoke, interrupting his thoughts, "How will we go about this?" she set down her mug and looked up at him questionably.

He took a deep breath before he answered her, setting his empty mug down and trying to hush the voices so he could speak properly.

"I have to go. I'll gather everything I know into a file and give it to you at our next class; after tomorrow. We can discuss the information after the session," he finished, pushing back his chair.

The voices were getting louder and he had to get away. Before he could give her a chance to reply, he quickly left the table, making his way towards the door. As he neared it, he turned, in time to see the shocked features gracing the witch's face. His head was spinning by now, the battle inside giving him a pounding headache as he finally stepped out of the cafe. A deep breath of the biting cold was a relief; clearing his mind. He tucked his hands into his coat pocket, taking a few steps through the snow towards a wide fir tree. Pulling out his wand after ducking into the tree's shade, he mumbled out his address and apparated. His muscles relaxed as soon as the familiar surroundings came into his vision and he breathed in a sigh of relief. The day's events had drained him, and he was looking forward to a nice shower, maybe a cup of herbal tea, which was something he had recently learned of and soon became a favorite of his. But at the thought of this, he realized a grave mistake.

 _He'd left Granger to pay for their drinks._

 _Shit._

He had left in such a hurry he hadn't thought about who would pay the bill in the end. He wanted to curse himself. No self respecting Malfoy let a girl pay for his drinks, muggle born or not. It was a silly thing, but his pride was behind it. He would have to pay her back the next time he saw her. He shook his head, tossing his coat onto the couch and headed to the shower.

Draco tapped his quill against his wooden oak desk, trying to organize his thoughts before he could scribble them down onto the parchment in front of him. His stay in Azkaban had been brief but memories of the place still made him shiver. What they said about the place was true; the dementors had made every ounce of him heavy with a crushing sense of hopelessness. He may not want to admit it but he really was thankful to Kingsley for getting him out of that cursed place. The weight of all his mistakes and previous prejudice had tempted him to stay but promises of a ministry job and a quiet life outbalanced his feelings. But that was beside the point. He had overheard a lot from his short stay and he needed to get it all down before it all faded into mist in his brain. He breathed in, but when he came up blank again, he decided, _to hell with it,_ throwing his quill down and heading to his closet.

He emerged half a minute later, a wide bowl in his hands. The gray container was half filled with liquid silver memories: a pensieve. It would be much easier as well as more convenient to show Granger what he'd seen and heard. This way he wouldn't risk accidentally leave out any details or fudging them. Carefully, he set the bowl down on the desk and prepared the right memories in his mind. He put the tip of his wand against his temple and slowly pulled it away, seconds later. A long silver string came away, and he let it drop into the pensieve. He repeated this a few times until his mind was empty of the memories containing the information Granger so badly wanted.

With a sigh, he placed his wand on the bedside table and made his way to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed. When he was through, he changed into a loose pair of pajama bottoms and a plain t-shirt, then flopped onto his bed. He dreaded this time of day, when he was exhausted but not prepared to face the nightmare of sleep. He wrapped the fluffy green comforter around him and glared at the ceiling. He knew the routine by heart now. No matter what he tried, nothing changed and he still went through this process every night. A glance at his bedside table to check that the glass of water he kept there was filled was the first thing he did. He knew he would drift off soon only to wake up a couple of hours later, sweating and shaking from the nightmares that plagued him. The water would calm him and he would drink it all in one sip. Sometimes, if it was a particularly bad dream, he would stumble into the bathroom and splash his face with ice cold water from the sink. Walking around the house seemed to help after that, and if the weather was okay, he would take a walk out in the dark, or sit on a patch of grass and watch the stars.

When the dreams weren't too bad, which was rare, he would lay in bed, after drinking his water, staring blankly at the wall opposite him until he drifted off again.

He didn't know what would happen tonight though. His mind was filled to the brim with all kinds of thoughts that had awakened earlier that day because of the therapy session. With all reminders of his mistakes swimming in his head, such as his attempt at killing the headmaster, he had a feeling it would not be a good night. He let out a growl of frustration as he turned on his other side. Would this ever stop? Or would he be forced to live the rest of his life like this? His eyelids started to droop and he knew it wasn't going to be long until he fell asleep. He was simply too exhausted from today. Since the aftermath of the war, simple events tired him quickly.

 _Can't dwell on that now_ , he thought, as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Aaand Chapter 5, back to Hermione's POV.**

 **Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review if you have an suggestions or if you enjoy the story in general!**

Hermione shakily brushed her fingers through her wet hair, wincing as she ripped through a tangle. The jumbled nerves inside of her were numbing though, and she barely registered the sharp jolt of pain. Those damned nerves hadn't left her since Tuesday, when Malfoy had promised her information that could solve the mystery of what had happened to her parents. Since then she had been itching to get her hands on what he knew, yet she was still nervous as to what she might learn.

A glance at the clock she had hanging on the wall opposite her told her she needed to get ready or she would be late again. She mumbled a quick spell (One of the few she could actually bring herself to use) to dry her hair, then discarded her towel to change into something more suitable for the winter weather outside. Once she was done, she tied her hair up in a loose ponytail and gave a quick look at the mirror. All was fine, except her bottom lip, which seemed to be glued directly under her teeth. She was surprised she hadn't drawn blood yet, from how much she'd been biting that poor lip. With a sigh she headed towards the door; she might as well put all this worrying to good use.

* * *

"Room 512, Room 512…" Hermione muttered as she hurried down the hallway. She slowed as she reached the eighth door and gave a short knock. Like before, It swung upon right away and Hermione found herself back in the bright room. The table they had sat down in last time was in the same spot and Malfoy looked up at her arrival. He greeted her with nothing at all but she was sure she could see answers in his piercing gray eyes and she found her heartbeat increasing as she remembered the promise of information. She would admit she was quite nervous to know what Malfoy knew and she hoped this session would be quick, so she could indulge in the information as soon as possible.

Nurse Maya interrupted her thinking and Hermione proceeded to take her seat.

"I hope you two are ready for today's session! I have an activity planned that should break the ice between you two, if even by a crack, Let's get started shall we?" The nurse chirped.

Hermione found Maya's bright attitude a bit contagious and a smile spread across her face as the Nurse sat down in the chair beside her.

"We're going to find Ten things you two have in common," The nurse said and Hermione's smile slipped.

"Us, TEN things in _common_?" She asked, mouth gaping.

The nurse nodded and _accio_ ed a notepad from her desk, "We'll write them all down,"

"But the only thing we have in common is that we're wizards/witches, other than that we're polar opposites" Hermione sputtered.

"Ah, ah, ah, there's plenty more similarities, trust me, dig deep and you'll find them," Maya replied cheerfully and Hermione found herself wanting to slap the smile off the nurses face. What was up with her and her extreme emotions today?! She shook her head and glanced at Malfoy, who seemed to be deep in thought. With a frown she looked back to the Nurse who was doodling flowers on her paper.

"I'm waiting," She chirped when she saw Hermione looking.

"We were both pretty smart at Hogwarts, you know, top grades and whatnot," Malfoy said quietly.

Hermione looked to him, his suggestion causing her to remember something else, "We were also both Prefects,"

Maya nodded as she scribbled these two down.

"Eight more,"

Hermione thought back to the arguments she'd had with Malfoy and something stood out, "We're both pretty stubborn," she volunteered, somewhat reluctantly.

He raised a blonde eyebrow at her and a hint of a smirk sat on his face. He leaned back in his chair, a small frown replacing the brief ghost of a smile he'd had; his thinking face was back on. He turned to her, "You don't have any siblings do you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well then we're both only child's," he said.

Hermione had to admit that was a good one. She wracked her brain trying to come up with another similarity but came up short.

"This is ridiculous, I don't think there's anything else we have in common," she muttered.

Maya pursed her lips, "Like I said. _Dig deeper._ You only need six more,"

"Does going to Hogwarts count as one?" Malfoy asked.

The nurse shook her head, "We'll leave that as a last resort. Now think,"

With a sigh Hermione shut her eyes and recalled all memories she had of Malfoy, sifting through then, trying to spot a similarity. Finally, she remembered a feast in the Great Hall, were she had been eating treacle tart and scanning the rest of the celebrating students. She had noticed that Malfoy was also indulging in a slice of the same delicacy.

She opened her eyes, "You like Treacle Tart?"

The blonde nodded, "Also you're not the only bookworm Granger. I happen to enjoy a good book as well,"

"Those two make six! Four more," The nurse smiled.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Hermione was ready to hex someone. After finally wrapping up the similarity thing, the nurse had them talk about some war experiences. By talking with them, the nurse had helped ease the pain that came along with those memories but Hermione was sick of talking about them. She was ready to find out what Malfoy knew and leave this overly bright room. She couldn't understand how someone could ever stand talking about such painful experiences as a _job._ She knew it was important but it was so draining, for her at least.

"That's it for today! I'll see you two on Tuesday!" The nurse finished and Hermione shot out of her seat.

"Thank you," she mumbled before heading to the door and leaving the room. She tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet lining of the hallway as she waited for Malfoy to exit as well. She had no idea what the deal with him was. Well, more like the deal with her _about_ him. She was still pretty surprised at how quick she was able to set aside their pungent history to work together. Then again, she would do anything for her parents.

She despised Malfoy; if she was setting aside their differences to work on a case that didn't mean he was her friend now; But she _had_ made a deal with him and that was eating at her now; she liked to keep her end of deals and promises but this one was… tough. It would take a lot of work to —

"Hey," Malfoy interrupted her thoughts and she almost jumped.

"Merlin, don't sneak up on me like that again," she scowled.

He rolled his eyes, "You were the one lost in Dream Land,"

"I wasn't _lost,"_ she huffed, "Now where's the information you promised?"

Malfoy hesitated, "Well, I wasn't able to get it down on paper so I put the memories in a pensieve for you to watch,"

Hermione gaped at him, "Bloody hell, you really _are_ stupid,"

"What?!" Malfoy scowled.

She rolled her eyes, "You could have watched the memories _yourself_ and written the stuff down,"

"But you could see it from a different perspective and plus I didn't want to mess up any details," he explained, crossing his arms

Hermione frowned, "Fine. But wait...Do I have to go to your place for this or what?" She asked, internally gagging at the thought.

"Believe me, I don't like this either, but yes," He replied, "I'll have to apparate us both to my flat,"

Hermione bit her lip; she hadn't apparated since the Accident with her parents and she didn't want to touch Malfoy at all. But she had no choice, did she?

With a sigh she nodded and Malfoy extended his arm to her. Shutting her eyes, she let her hand rest on his forearm as he pulled out his wand. Seconds later, the familiar crushing feeling of Apparition surrounded her and all was dark.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: We've got a reveal coming up! Next chapter we'll find out!**

 **Happy Reading!**

Hermione pulled her hand away from Malfoy's arm when they landed at their destination. Without his support, her trembling legs gave away, causing her to slide down onto the floor.

"Clumsy, are we?" Malfoy remarked with a trademark smirk and Hermione answered him with a glare as she pulled herself up to stand again.

"I haven't apparated in a while," she defended, but she suspected her limited diet was also to blame. He shook his head and she proceeded to take a look around as he unbuttoned his coat.

Malfoy's flat was similar to hers in design, but of course, his was grander; both in the size and the furniture that adorned the place.

It wasn't _Malfoy Manor_ level of decoration she found, but it was still fancy compared to the simple pieces furnishing her own flat.

They were standing next to a leather sofa, with a small kitchen at the far left and a carpeted hallway to their right.

"You can sit down you know," he muttered after hanging his coat beside the front door.

She realized she had been fidgeting next to the couch and with a mumbled 'okay' she hesitantly sat down.

He disappeared down the hallway and she assumed he was going to fetch the pensieve so she took the stolen time to observe the place.

 _That's odd,_ she thought, noticing the bare walls around her. The furniture was abundant and quite nice, but the walls were void of any decoration. She made a mental note to ask him about it later. Wait. Were they on asking terms now? Hermione could say this was the strangest thing Hermione had pondered lately. Thoughts like these had been plaguing her the past week, since she'd made that deal with Malfoy. Where they acquaintances now? Friends even? _No definitely not friends._ She thought, acquaintances or maybe peers seemed right.

Thankfully, Malfoy re entered the room, pensieve in hand, before she could keep losing herself in such thoughts.

She stood up as he walked over to the coffee table in front of the couch and carefully placed down the pensieve.

"Ready?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She took in a deep breath, eyeing the pensieve with suspicion, as if she doubted it had the answers she wanted.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready; but often times in life, we have to do things we're not ready for," She said with a sigh.

"Since when were you a philosopher?" Malfoy questioned with a scowl, and she found a smile sliding onto her face. Somehow, Malfoy's remark gave her a boost of confidence and she turned to him.

"Since I found out I was a witch," she replied and he rolled his eyes.

"Are we going to do this or not?" He asked pointing to the pensieve. Hermione nodded, trying to get her breathing under control. She was finally going to hear who did it. Who ruined her life and left her completely broken, like a glass doll on a cement sidewalk. She was going to find out who was responsible for the accident that left her parents lifeless.

"I'll go in first," She said, and without waiting for his reply, she took a deep breath before squeezing her eyes shut and slowly submerging her head into the silver liquid. She felt her whole body being yanked and she was falling, spiraling into darkness until she finally landed.

She managed to stay on her feet this time and her eyes widened as she saw the place around her. No doubt this was Azkaban; the stone walls behind her were dark, casting a shadow on the prisoners. They were all lined up across from her, shackled together, dementors floating around them and it seemed they were waiting for someone or something.

The prisoners faces were for the most part, exhausted. Some hosted apologetic faces, others even angry as if they were frustrated that this was their demise; but many looked like they were drained of energy, and emotions too. She guessed some of that was due to the dementors and their cold ability to root out any happy feelings left.

Even though they were shackled, and she knew this was only a memory and they could not see her nor harm her, she still felt a shiver run through her body as she watched the prisoners. Suddenly Malfoy appeared next to her.

"Pay attention," he growled when he noticed her, "Go up to the prisoners and listen. That's what we're here for, not for you to stay put," He told her, brushing past her to the long line of people.

She scowled at him, but followed his steps on the stone floor, telling herself to listen to what he had said and quit being so afraid. But it was hard, _so hard_ to do that when she could see all of their faces, all those former Death Eaters.

 _Come one Hermione, you're_ much _stronger than this. You've fought these people before, what's different now? Why is it so hard this time?_

Her mind began to overflow with memories of each of these people as she neared them, still trailing behind Malfoy. Yaxley, the Carrow siblings, Rodolphus Lestrange… and there was Malfoy and his Father. _Old_ Malfoy and his father. She glanced at the real Malfoy in front of her and she could see the tense muscles on his face. He seemed to be trying to avoid the sight of his old self as well as Lucius. She shook her head; this was probably very tough for him, seeing the painful past.

The prisoners chatter in her ear was starting to become more distinct and comprehendible as she neared them. She came to a stop in front of someone she didn't recognize and moved up the line from there to where Old Malfoy stood, hoping she could hear what he had overheard.

"...Think they can do this to us…,"

"... Don't know how this happened…,"

"... Least I got a chance to fight…,"

"... You reckon they serve good food?"

"...Wish I could've seen her face! Hah! I wonder what they'll do when their precious little bookworm is broken,"

Hermione stopped and turned to the man who she heard. A hood covered his face as he spoke to those around him. She stepped closer, trying to hear as much as she could.

"...Oh yeah, it wudn't even that hard. It was towards the end. I was in the shadows and she was just standin' there. Ya only need to have view of the wand for this spell. Bit of a complicated spell but I'd been practicing since I found out. You think it'll get onto The Daily Prophet? I sure hope it does…"

Hermione clenched her teeth as she comprehended those words. She was sure she had found her parents murderers and she was bristling with anger. He had the _audacity_ to speak about it like that. She couldn't stay put now; she had to see who it was. She turned to face him, her heart hammering against her chest. With a swallow, she looked up at the familiar features.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Back to Draco's POV. I honestly didn't want to write it in his POV, as I thought it wouldn't work out well but since I'm doing two chapters Hermione and two chapters Draco, I had to. But I think it actually worked; it helps to see Draco's side of what happened I guess? Idk, but this is getting to be a long note, so I'll leave you be. Happy Reading!**

Draco guessed Hermione had found what she was looking for. She had been standing in the same spot, unmoving, for the past few minutes, and he wondered if he should check and see if she had heard what she wanted, as he was anxious to leave this place. She was standing close to Memory Draco and Memory Lucius though, and barely glancing at them was enough to give him the chills.

 _You're better than this. You will NOT be reduced to cowardice when it comes to facing the past_ , He chided himself.

And so, with a deep breath, he took step after the other, keeping his gaze straight ahead as to not catch sight of his past self or Lucius, until he reached Hermione, standing a few meters in front of his Memory self and his so called father. His eyes widened when he realized she was shaking, her tear glazed eyes glued to the death eater in front of her. He stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and waved a hand in front of her face, trying to break her out of her daze.

"Granger. Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

She didn't respond, only looking down to inspect the cold stone floor, or her feet, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was that they had been inside Azkaban for far too long, if they were in here for any longer, Draco was sure his sanity, and possibly Granger's as well, would start to slip, if they hadn't already.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered, and held Hermione's arm as he apparated them out of the memory.

* * *

He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they landed back at the familiarity of his flat and led a trembling Granger to the couch. As soon as she sat down, she put her head into her hands and he could swear he heard her sniffling.

"Granger?" He whispered, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that appeared in his stomach.

No response.

Great.

The memory had shaken him up a bit as well, although he had tried not to show it, but Hermione seemed to have fallen apart and he had no idea what to do about it. She was known in the Wizarding World as a strong figure, someone who would stand with her chin held high even in hard moments, especially with her Gryffindor background. That's why it made him feel as if something was unbalanced, seeing her so _defeated._ The unease that came with that feeling was what made him decide to push aside his own struggling feelings and help Granger first.

Draco wasn't sure where he was supposed to start, so he did what knew. He left the couch and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. After taking out a glass from the cupboard above the sink, he opened the tap to fill it. He shut off the water when the glass was full and walked back to the Gryffindor on his couch.

"Granger," he tried again, setting the water in front of her on the wooden coffee table, "Drink,"

All he got for a response this time was a small sniff.

Well, that was progress at least.

"Drink the water. It'll help," he coaxed, sitting down beside her.

This time, she raised her head and slowly reached for the glass. She stared at the water for a few long moments, as if looking for her reflection or a lost item. Draco had no idea. In moments like this, when he woke up from nightmares, which he assumed Granger was feeling as if she had been through a nightmare, he downed the water without a thought.

Finally, she brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip, and now that her head was raised, Draco got a good look at her face. Needless to say, she looked a mess. Her flushed face was covered in tear tracks, and her tear glossed eyes were red and slightly puffy. Suddenly, she took one long sip, draining the glass before slamming it back into the table.

"First the Department is Mysteries and now this?!" She seethed, her hand gripping the cup tightly as she looked at Draco with her wild eyes.

"Care to clarify?" He asked, a bit unnerved by her outburst. At least she had stopped the quiet sniffling, that been starting to get quite annoying.

"Dolohov. That sodding bastard! And what's worse!" She said, her voice rising, "IS THAT IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" She yelled, abruptly standing up and hurling the glass in her hand at the wall. It shattered upon impact, showering Draco's floor in glistening glass shards.

If it wasn't for the current situation, he would have admired the broken pieces; he thought they actually looked quite pretty, as they shone with the light they caught and reflected it onto the wall in jagged patterns. Now was definitely not the time though.

Hermione crumpled back onto the couch, a defeated expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, "It just..hurts. _So much_. But I shouldn't have thrown that cup. I'll fix it. Thanks for the water. I'm not normally this way. I'm usually quite calm and rational but ever since the War and my parents… it's too much… oh, I'm rambling aren't I?" She finished, leaning back on the soft couch cushions with a frown.

"Not really," He replied. He'd actually preferred her talking to her previous silence, "I get that it hurts. I'm hurting too, and it's taking a lot of willpower to keep going. The therapy's supposed to help," He snorted, "Not so sure if it will though. All that feelings talk," He let out a shudder.

Hermione let out a small laugh, "I'm not a fan of 'feelings talk' either. Sometimes it feels good to let it out but generally it's not something I like talking about,"

Draco nodded, a small smirk on the edges of his lips, glad that he had managed to get Hermione to perk up, if even by a small bit, as it made the unbalanced feeling begin to fade, "I agree. You probably should let your feelings out right now though. You seem pretty upset…"

Her face fell, "Oh. probably," she whispered.

Draco watched as her shoulders slumped and she let out a long sigh.

"Wi-will you listen to me?" she asked so quietly he almost didn't catch what she said.

His eyes widened; he had assumed she would leave his flat and let out her feelings to Potter or Weasley, maybe the Girl Weasley. But him? Maybe she was too drained to leave now? Or perhaps she thought she owed him an explanation as to why she as angry enough to break his glass.

Whatever the reason, he thought it was actually not too shabby of an idea, maybe doing so would help them "break the ice" between them like the Nurse had wanted them to earlier.

He gave her a small nod and she closed her eyes for a bit before looking at him again.

"Antonin Dolohov. I'd fought him in the Department of Mysteries during Fifth Year. He gave me quite a nasty scar and-"

"What?!" Draco interrupted, eyebrows raised. Entering that Ministry department at such a young age was no simple feat, and he was curious as to how that "adventure" had happened.

Hermione sighed, "It's a long story. And not a very pleasant one either..Anyways. It seems he's the one who cursed my wand. What I gathered from what he said in the memory is that he found out about my Parents," She stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing, "He found out about my parents through the Ministry. Somehow a few workers there heard about the..the obliviation and when some of them were under the Imperius curse after Voldemort took control of the Ministry, that was among the things that the Death Eaters found out. Although I can't for the life of me, figure out _how_ those Ministry workers found out about my parents,"

"Huh," he frowned, the gears in his head beginning to turn as he thought about the possibilities.

"It's painful though," She continued with a groan, "To know that it was probably someone I know who told someone in the Ministry and then it spread. If only I had my mouth shut. Then I wouldn't be hurting so much…"

Draco shook his head, "That doesn't mean it's your fault. Maybe Potter or Weasley told someone, and that's how it spread.

She frowned, tilting her head to the side, and she began to shake her head, but suddenly, her eyes widened, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she uttered one name, "Percy,"


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Draco's POV, Hermione will lend us her POV next chapter :)**

 **And I probably should do this much more often but I don't - oops: Disclaimer, I'm only borrowing these characters, I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.**

 **Happy Reading!**

Draco would have to admit he was surprised. Granger had said that one Weasley's name and after muttering a quiet "thanks", she promptly left his flat, presumably to go talk to that Weasley, or maybe Potter. Who knows. He was exhausted, mostly mentally and he was more than ready to retire for the day. Their earlier trip to Azkaban had awakened old memories and he was sure tonight's dreams would be anything but pleasant. Now that Granger was gone, there was nothing else to distract him from those damned thoughts, which were now beginning to plague him. He groaned, putting his head in his hands to take a few deep breaths as some of them flashed in front of his eyes.

The Dark Lord sneering at him, the word _failure_ forming on his lips, anger flashing in his snakelike red eyes.

Uttering his first _Avada kedavra,_ and the way he had vomited afterwards.

Having to watch Bellatrix hurling multiple _Crucio_ s at a 'blood traitor' and knowing she would hand the job to him soon.

Laying bruised and bleeding on the floor after Lucius had taken his anger out on him again.

Humiliation as he sat in a Death Eater meeting, the Dark Lord having called him out for a mistake, and subjecting him to a few rounds of _Crucio_ as punishment.

Cold and shivering in his Azkaban cell, his stomach clawing at him as the dementors slowly sucked away any feelings he may have had left.

 _That is the past. Push those memories_ away _from your mind, move them to the bin,_ He thought to himself in an effort to banish those images. He tried to force happy memories in place of those, but as he searched for happy thoughts he found none. In his whole seventeen and three quarter years of living, he couldn't remember anything that would lighten him up the way happy memories did. He growled, getting up from the couch, this was useless, he would distract himself some other way, maybe with a shower or a good book. The thought of a book reminded him of Granger, and he recalled with another groan that he _still_ hadn't paid her back for those drinks. He'd have to write it down this time, which would hopefully keep the fact from slipping his mind the next time he saw the bookworm. For now though, he would find something to get his mind off of the flashing images of his past.

He made his way to his room and flicked on the light with his wand, pocketing it after. His bookshelf was right across him and he scanned the titles, debating silently which one to pick up and lose himself in. The red spined _Magical Mysteries_ caught his attention and he stalked over to it and pulled it out of it's spot, heading over to his bed. After making himself comfortable under the green comforter, he opened the thick volume in his hand and began the first chapter. He had always enjoyed mysteries, loving the way they were like a puzzle with different possibilities that had no sure answer and he soon found himself lost in the words.

* * *

Draco opened the fridge door and stared inside, ignoring the cold blast of air that made a shiver run through his body. He had a much more pressing problem at the moment; his hunger. He had been unceremoniously interrupted by the growls of his stomach when he had been a few chapters deep in his book, and he had been unable to focus on reading again once he had been interrupted, so he had grudgingly made his way to the kitchen. His appetite wasn't very strong, and there were times when he went the whole day before realizing he needed to eat something, but today's events seemed to have awakened his appetite a bit. After a few more moments of staring at the little contents of his fridge, he pulled out a few ingredients, placing them on the counter to the left of the fridge before making a sandwich consisting only of two slices of bread, a slice of turkey, and a bit of shredded lettuce. He placed his creation on a plate and returned the ingredients back in the fridge. Right as he settled on the small wooden dinner table to eat, a fat brown owl squeezed it's way in from the narrow opening of a window across him, message attached. It approached him, sticking its leg out for Draco to untie the scroll tied to it, and Draco felt his mouth go dry. This couldn't be good. He rarely got letters, and he had recognized a seal on the scroll that made his stomach queasy. With a swallow he stood up and reached out to untie the message, his sandwich cold and forgotten. As soon as the owl was fee of it's burden it immediately flew away; whoever it was, which Draco was sure he knew the identity of the sender, did not want or did not expect a reply. His fingers shook as he unrolled the scroll, and he read the scribbled sentence in a glance.

No.

No. It couldn't be.

Draco felt the bile rise in his throat, and was thankful he hadn't eaten yet, for if he had he knew he would have vomited right then.

 _Lawyer raised a case, Lucius is coming out._

It was scripted in his mother's flowy cursive, every letter in perfect form. He had known it was his mother who wrote it from the seal she had used, the old Malfoy seal. He couldn't understand why she insisted on using it, but that was not the matter now.

There was no question about what the letter meant, Lucius was leaving Azkaban. The one man responsible for his ruined childhood and very involvement with the Dark Lord was coming back. The reason he drowned in nightmares every night. The reason that a painful mark had been slapped onto his left arm and was now an ugly scar the shape of the Dark Mark, leftover as a reminder of the war and his involvement with Voldemort. The reason he now harbored a slight resentment for being a Malfoy.

This day was only getting worse; he'd had a few glimpses into his painful past earlier and now he felt as if he would be dragged into a living hell when Lucius was out. He had no idea when he would be out, but he guessed it was soon. Draco felt his chest tighten, and his breaths were slowly turning into short gasps. He had changed from the war, but his father had not. When he had been with him in Azkaban he found Lucius still hate-filled, still yearning to indulge in the dark, and he had been more than happy when he had been assigned a different cell than his old man. Maybe his stay in azkaban would have changed him by now, but Draco had no idea. He didn't want to see Lucius again. He was scared what would happen, what he would _do_ when he came out of that prison.

By now his lungs felt as if they were being squeezed by an iron grip, he couldn't breath. He began to see white spots, as well as multiple tables and fridges as he swayed in his spot. As everything blurred, the fear still clawed at him and he shut his eyes.

 _It would have been better if I had been among the dead in the war,_ he thought bitterly before passing out upon his kitchen floor.

 **AN(Again, I Know. Sorry?): Thoughts on this chapter? Do you think Draco is overreacting? I'll be a happy little writer if you review and let me know! :)**

 **I feel like this chapter could have been better but I was too impatient to edit a third time lol, hopefully you enjoyed it though!**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hey guys.. I'm so so so sorry it took me a few months to update :( life got in the way and things were all crazy and I was unable to post. And this is more of a filler chapter but hopefully I'll be on a regular updating schedule from now on and so if things go as planned, chapter 10 will be up within a week, and that will have more plot in it. Again I apologize for the late update. I really hope you are enjoying the story so far!**

 **Happy reading!**

Hermione's head was spinning, _had_ been spinning for a while actually, and she considered it a miracle that she was still able to think straight at this point. It was as if she had been placed in a mind boggling race without being informed of her location, where she was to begin, or if there even was an end to this damned thing.

After a trip earlier that she hoped would never be repeated, she was sure she had found who had cursed her wand, but after returning, she had realized that something wasn't quite straight. How had Dolohov managed to find out about her parents? Her little discussion with Malfoy had helped her realize how, and in her haste to wrap up this investigation,she had left right then to go and question Percy.

Her steps slowed, was she being too rash? She didn't like showing up unannounced, so what was she doing going over to Percy's place and questioning him without any prior planning or informing? She let out a sigh and buried her hands deeper in her coat pockets. She knew she needed to rest first before making any big decisions so she forced her feet to change direction to her own flat, mentally preparing a letter to Percy in her head.

 _Dear Percy,_

 _How are you doing? Do you mind if I come over for a little chat tomorrow morning?_

No, too direct.

 _Hello Percy,_

 _How have you been lately? How's your work at the Ministry going? How are you managing life on your own? Do you miss Molly's food yet?_

Too many questions and she wasn't getting to the point.

 _Hello Percy,_

 _I'll be running some errands tomorrow and your place is on the same path as my way, do you mind if I pass by you for small visit?_

 _Hope you're doing well._

 _Hermione_

That sounded better. She was lying but it was for a good cause, she told herself. Having grown up in a house that valued good morals, she felt guilty for lying to her friend, but then again, if her suspicions were correct, it would probably take her a while until she considered Percy a friend again. In a way, she felt that she was being a bit childish or petty, but the War had left her shattered, broken, trying to patch up all the cracks that had stemmed all over her body and heart. The War had left her with a sense of paranoia whenever a shadow lingered too long or when a door creaked too loudly. Whenever she got hurt, even simply a paper cut, she was brought back to the memories of the battlefield, where blood was everywhere and pain and fear were the most prominent feelings. Back to the feeling of constant worry, of gripping her wand so tightly until her knuckles turned white, of hurling curses and dodging to avoid the ones that came from the Death Eater's side.

She wished she was among those who had been able to move on quickly after the war, but who were those? They all had been hurt and bruised from its impact. Harry woke up every night from blood curling nightmares, and the smallest things could give him flashbacks. His visits to a therapist had helped, but only those who were close to him knew that although during the day it seemed that he had gotten better, at night, in the privacy of his home, Harry still cried and screamed when a haunting nightmare awoke him.

Ron would spend hours sitting and staring at something which reminded him of the War, especially when he found something which had belonged to Fred. He would either be silent or mumble incoherent sentences, and at night, insomnia kept him awake.

George's famous prankster spirit was gone, he was now a quiet, living corpse. He slept and ate, but there was no spirit, no character in his actions.

Ginny also suffered from vivid nightmares, and panic attacks were a common occurrence for her.

And Molly. Poor Molly went about her daily chores with tears dripping from her face and without her previous energy. There were days she simply stayed in bed, unable to face the demons of the past and the thought of not seeing Fred in his room planning his next prank or joining their broken family at the dinner table.

And that was only scratching the surface. All their previous classmates and all those who had been a part of the war suffered from some type of PTSD, and while some were able to cope and learn to live again, others were still struggling to heal their war scars. Hermione was one of those who were yet to heal their scars, but she hoped that soon she would be able to.

Her steps slowed as she reached her muggle flat, and she closed her eyes in relief as she entered and closed the door behind her. The sense of familiarity and home relaxed her tensed muscles. As she hung up her coat, she decided to take a warm bath to ease the tension and muddled emotions that had built up today. Yes that was it, a nice bath with lavender oil would help clear her mind enough so she could send that letter to Percy and figure out how she would confront him.

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and made her way to the bathroom to begin running the bath.

Hermione tied the knot on her robe as she stepped out of the bathroom and headed to her bedroom. For a few moments, she had been the owner of a clear, relaxed mind, but now that she had stepped out of the water, that was all old news. As she went through her after-bath routine, she let her mind wander back to drafting her letter to Percy.

She had finished dressing and was halfway through brushing her hair when an owl swooped into the room. She set down her hairbrush and swallowed, letter to Percy forgotten. What could this be about? Letters always awakened some type of anxiety in her, as if she had developed a fear of bad news.

She carefully untied the letter from the owl which had settled on the back of her chair in front of her vanity. It stayed put after she had retrieved the letter, so she guessed the sender was expecting a reply. She took a deep breath and opened the parchment to read the message.

 _Hermione,_

 _Bad news, apparently they held trials for a bunch of Death Eaters today and there's a group of them who were cleared of charges and are going to be let out. I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you but the news is stressful and I needed to let someone else know. Again I'm sorry. If you don't mind I'll pop in later today?_

 _Harry_

Hermione swallowed. Harry was right, it was stressful and upsetting news and she didn't blame him for wanting to get it off his chest. With a sigh she pulled open the second drawer of her nightstand to pull out a quill and a piece of parchment, scribbling her reply to Harry.

 _Yes, come over, I haven't seen you in a while._

She would discuss the news with him when he came. She gave the owl a treat then tied the reply to its leg and sent it off. She felt her body beginning to tremble as she absorbed the news. What did this mean? What if Dolohov was among them? No, impossible. He had too many charges against him. But the thought of _any_ Death Eater being released made her feel sick. What made them innocent enough to be let out? They were the reason this generation had grown up when they were still kids, forced to fight at an age were they were simply too young to witness the horrors of war. They were the reason all the returning Hogwarts students would be able to see the thestrals that led the carriages from the Hogwarts Express to the front doors of the school.

She massaged her forehead and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of mint tea to calm her nerves. As she prepared her cup and put the water to boil, she considered making a drink for Harry too.

Right as the thought passed her mind, she heard a faint *crack* which signaled Harry's arrival in her living room. A small smile amidst the demons inside her slipped on her face as she stepped out of the kitchen to greet her friend. He was wearing a grin as well, but it did nothing to hide the cracks in his mask. He pulled her into a hug and suddenly she could feel the weight of everything now. All the pain and frustration that had built up, all the anxiety she had felt, all the shock, everything since the end of the war, it was all there. And it confused her, when did the comforting touch of her friend turn into a painful reminder of all that had passed? Or was it simply all the pressure of what had happened today? She didn't know. She didn't know and she didn't want to think about it anymore, so she let go and let it all melt away as she burst into tears.


End file.
